Rome Burning (54 page)

‘Look,’ said Varius. ‘Tell me the worst thing you suspect. That he had Lord Kato murdered, and everything else is just smoke to cover his return to Rome. Is it that? And we’re here to keep you confused; you waste your time here questioning us for the few days before the attack comes. And he kept Una and myself ignorant so that we would be more convincing.’

‘Yes,’ said Tadahito. ‘Don’t trouble to tell me Caesar would not act against us in that way. Tell me if he would do it to you.’

‘No.’

‘Of course. The only possible answer. Tell me about the lady.’

‘Is she expendable? No.’

‘Even as a painful sacrifice, if he were convinced it was necessary?’

‘No.’ Varius remembered Tadahito’s sister, the hinted marriage. It seemed to belong to another world, and yet it made discussing Una difficult. He was already aware that to put too much stress on her closeness to Marcus could place her in further jeopardy. He could have tried explaining that Marcus probably could not have deceived Una in such a way even if he’d wanted to, but the moment Una’s ability occurred to Varius, it was with the certainty that he must not reveal it – it was the only possible advantage either of them held. He said cautiously, ‘You must know that after his parents’ assassination, there was a serious threat against Marcus’ life. He met Una during a time which had a great impact on them both. Even if there were nothing between them now but the past, still, if he were to throw anyone away, she would be the last person.’

‘And you. Are you as confident of your own standing with him?’

‘Yes,’ Varius answered, faintly surprised after he spoke at just how certain he was. ‘He could carry on as Caesar without my help, of course, but …’ He stopped speaking long enough for the Prince to open his mouth to begin a prompting question, but before he could voice it, Varius finished impatiently, ‘He considers that I saved his life.’

Tadahito tilted his head, frowning, interested at the phrasing. ‘He is … mistaken, somehow?’

Varius smiled unhappily, already wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. ‘I don’t share his view of events.’

‘But in his mind, he owes you that?’

‘No. He doesn’t owe me anything. And even if he had it’s – it’s been paid back, that was years ago, but of course I trust him. At least …’ He exhaled a small, harsh laugh. ‘I don’t want to be here, Your Highness. Caesar put me in this position against my will and I’m not going to forget it. But I do know his reasons. And for them to be as you fear, he would have had to have changed out of all recognition.’

‘Perhaps he
has
changed out of all recognition,’ said Tadahito. He sighed and without turning away, began to speak in Nionian, evidently summarising what had been said in Latin.

Sanetomo answered, and spoke for some time, quietly arguing his case. He showed none of Taira’s earlier passion. But he avoided Varius’ eyes.

Tadahito listened and said in Latin, quite lightly, ‘Lord Sanetomo says your intentions or Caesar’s are no longer the point. If we are to believe what you say of Caesar’s departure, then it is this second prince, who demands your return so vociferously, that we have to reckon with now. The peace negotiations are unsalvageable, and we must make use of what advantages we have. Maybe you can’t tell us anything about Lord Kato’s assassination. But there must be things you do know.’

Varius breathed out. He felt a bizarre relief. They had come to the point. ‘And you must know that I won’t willingly tell you anything that could help you in a war against Rome. And if you attempt to –
force
me to do so, it will no longer be a question of whether you can trust Rome, it will be Rome’s certainty that they cannot trust you. And peace really will be unsalvageable. You can’t take that chance until you are sure Marcus isn’t coming back. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t questions you should be asking that I
can
answer. I will tell you everything that I know, right now, about Drusus Novius Faustus. Then I want to see Una.’

*

The lady was crouched in a chair, her knees drawn up and her arms hanging crossed over them. Her head jerked up as Noriko entered with Tomoe and Sakura, so sharply that Noriko stopped in her tracks and felt herself inexplicably blushing. The whites of the younger woman’s eyes were scrawled over with red – from tiredness, it seemed, however, rather than weeping. Her skin was greyish, opaque, as if drained not only of colour but of some kind of vital sap. Despite that, she looked almost too alert, feverishly so, if fever could be cold instead of hot. Her movements were all a little too jagged and quick – not actually aggressive, yet with a cornered dangerousness straining in the thin, tense joints, so that Noriko felt for a confused moment that she might lunge into an attack. Instead, the lady said, ‘Please, come in,’ her voice and face faultlessly courteous although the motion of the arm she extended was more commanding than welcoming.

Noriko had spoken at the same moment, murmuring, ‘Forgive me. You are very tired.’ The collision of civilities silenced them both.

Noriko glided decorously into the room, thinking that it was either bold or ridiculous for a prisoner – even a prisoner of high status – to offer an invitation into a room she had no control over and could not leave. She settled on finding it rather impressive, and smiled, cautiously.

Una was irritated at the sting of dismay she felt. For God’s sake, did any personal thing matter against the brew of crisis lapping outside the room? Or if she couldn’t force her thoughts to operate on the clean, rational level she wanted, if she couldn’t get her brain clear of agony about Marcus, it remained petty, degrading to be disturbed by another woman’s beauty. Nevertheless, she found herself unprepared. Without the glamour of the deep, green-shaded hair, hanging loose to the floor against her clothes like a layer of silk against silk, without the almost equal finery of the women framing her, Noriko might have been no more than pretty. But over the twenty-four years of her life, so many hours of so many ladies and maids must have been
poured into her, glossing her hair, smoothing her skin: she was laminated in time and skill, and glowed unthinkingly, taking it for granted. She had not yet identified herself, but Una was in no doubt who this was. And as she registered Noriko’s hidden embarrassment, something else struck her – a furtive familiarity, a certainty that Noriko was concealing knowledge she should not have or could not admit to. Una had not seen the Princess before. But the Princess had seen her.

One of the other women confirmed, in low, hesitant Latin, that this was the Princess Imperial. Noriko placed her hands one over the other before her chest and inclined her head in a nod of greeting which Una, after a moment, returned tersely. She was almost too raw with frustration and pain to act on the knowledge that she had better do what she could to be polite and likeable. Already she was aware of the ladies-in-waiting disapproving of her. Noriko herself was making allowances, though.

‘Please excuse my poor Latin,’ began Noriko, sitting down on one of the lacquered elmwood chairs. In Nionia they would all have been kneeling on cushions or matting. But they were not in Nionia.

‘It’s much better than my Nionian,’ said Una, after a moment in which she could not understand Noriko’s accent.

‘No, no. But I have these; I hope I shall manage a little.’ She took a couple of books from Tomoe and laid them beside her. Sakura poured out little bowls of the same leaf infusion Una had been given by the Sinoan court ladies. Or no, it was different, a startling grass green. Una stared at it, with a second’s blank, exhausted fascination.

‘I came to see how you were,’ continued Noriko. ‘If I can do anything for you.’

Una held back a sardonic grimace, thinking, you came because you wanted to have another look at me. She uncurled, scrubbed viciously at her face, and said forcefully, ‘Yes, you can tell me what’s going on.’

Noriko smiled sympathetically and busied herself leafing through her language books. But it was a deflecting tactic, Una knew she had understood.

‘I’ve been answering questions all day. They’ve asked
me fifty different ways if Marcus could have had that lord killed, but no one will talk to me seriously.’

She was too agitated to speak slowly and Noriko missed a few words of this, but the sense of it was obvious.‘You must be anxious for news of Novius Caesar. But it is too soon for him to have reached Rome.’

Una said bleakly, ‘Yes, I know.’

‘So perhaps I cannot tell you anything of use. I could have some fresh clothes brought to you.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Una dully. ‘Thank you very much.’ She was quiet as she glanced at the Princess, shyly strategising. She subdued her impulse to look Noriko straight in the eyes, feeling that it was the wrong thing to do, but she leant forward and asked in a low, urgent voice, ‘But in my place you would find out more. Wouldn’t you?’

‘What is she asking? She is pestering you,’ complained Sakura in Nionian.

‘It is all right,’ muttered Noriko. She fingered the pages of the book broodingly and then snapped it shut. ‘Leave us.’

Sakura and Tomoe rose silently to their feet and withdrew. The door shut again from the outside.

‘Women are not allowed to know as much as they wish,’ Noriko said, balancing her tone carefully, allowing for eventual evasion and at the same time signalling that she knew what Una meant. She smiled again, generously, including Una. ‘Perhaps especially women of rank. Sometimes we are so confined in what we may do, aren’t we?’

Una blinked. She heard her own short, coarse, incredulous laugh, and thought that alone ought to have been enough to tell Noriko the truth. ‘I was a slave,’ she said bluntly.

Noriko’s eyes widened very slightly in polite incomprehension.

‘Not some kind of high-up slave, either. I’ve been in filthy places doing horrible things you’ve never even
thought
of. I was a slave until I was fifteen.’ Only as it faded did she recognise the tormented spite in her own urge to shock this polished, privileged creature, to rub her face in it. She had even felt affronted – that Noriko should
dare
to think their lives had been remotely similar. She watched, a little angry
with herself now, but interested to see how the Princess would react.

Noriko froze subtly. She was indeed profoundly shocked. It was as if with no warning she had been pitched through an invisible rotation in the air, as if the girl in front of her had monstrously changed herself, werewolf-like, into – exactly what she had been before. A pale young woman, with a stern intelligent face, fiercely graceful even though dishevelled with anxiety and sleeplessness. A caged, somehow compelling person. ‘Oh,’ she said, in an unaltered voice, leaning to replenish Una’s cup although Una had barely touched it. ‘I hope I didn’t offend you. So, please – you were saying?’

Una’s lips twitched in a half-smile of grudging approval. She thought, fair enough.

‘But I’m afraid I know very little about politics,’ continued Noriko demurely.

Una nodded a little grimly, sizing up the obstacle. ‘I don’t want to offend you either, but I don’t think I believe you there.’ She paused. More hesitantly, in a softer voice, she said. ‘I think … I must tell you something else. I know why you came here with the Prince.’

Noriko started, shocked into staring frankly. And she was silent for a long time, her face slowly staining a clear, dawn red. Una observed again, without resentment now, how beautiful she was. Noriko murmured, ‘How?’

‘One of our officials worked it out,’ answered Una, deciding against naming Varius. She turned her head away. ‘I only heard a few minutes before Drusus Novius arrived. Before the attack. So, you must be anxious to know more about … Caesar. Or at least about life in Rome.’

‘I think that will not happen now,’ said Noriko in an undertone, wondering how anyone could make such an offer about her lover in such a detached, authoritative way. ‘I am sure
you
would not wish to see it, in any case.’

Una clenched her fists against a sudden blast of desolation. He promised me he would not, she thought, feeling her skin remember: the texture of his clothes and his body beneath as she’d pressed her face against him. He would be hurt if he could see this. He would want her to trust his word entirely, to put any other possibility out of her head.

‘No, I don’t want to see it,’ she said, looking back at Noriko. ‘This is the information I’ve got to bargain with and I hope it will be completely useless. It doesn’t matter what I think, it only matters whether
you
want it.’

Another silence. ‘It’s true,’ confessed Noriko finally. ‘I would like to know more. To be safe. But, to bargain with that, as you suggest …’

‘I’m not asking where Nionia’s missiles are! I only want to know what’s happening
now
. Drusus Novius must want us back. So what has he said? Has he threatened to attack Nionia if Varius and I are not handed over to him?’

Noriko’s face hardened quietly. She asked, ‘Would he go that far?’

‘Not at first, perhaps,’ said Una. ‘So far as he believes anything, he believes peace with your country is pointless. But he’ll do what he thinks he must to become Emperor. He cares less about a war than that. He’s here in the Emperor’s name; he might feel bound to go through the motions for a few days. But if he thinks making himself a war leader will raise his chances, that’s what he’ll do. So yes, I think he will threaten you, and if you refuse, it will give him the excuse to start his war. And I don’t think it will take very long.’